


It's Not Unusual

by anastasiapullingteeth



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Aromantic Character, Established Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Internalized Amatonormativity, M/M, Not Beta Read, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Porn with Feelings, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-05-29 15:38:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19403305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastasiapullingteeth/pseuds/anastasiapullingteeth
Summary: Jehan is fucking Grantaire.Grantaire is in a committed relationship with Enjolras.Enjolras wants Jehan to move in with them.That's it. That's the whole fic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demonsonthemoon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demonsonthemoon/gifts).



> Me? Writing a Les Mis fic after almost two years of absence? It's more likely than you think...
> 
> This miracle was brought to you by [Aggressively Arospec Week](https://aggressivelyarospec.tumblr.com/post/184569848107/for-the-fourth-year-in-a-row-aggressivelyarospec)!

Jehan gasped and accidentally pulled at Grantaire’s curls, half in surprise and half in pleasure. The artist shifted between Jehan’s legs to get more comfortable on the bed, smiling to himself before licking a long stripe down Jehan’s shaft and wrapping his lips around the head. Jehan closed his eyes, clenching his fingers around Grantaire’s hand, looking for something to hold on to. It felt so good, but Jehan didn’t want to come when they’d just begun.

It was in days like this where Jehan almost forgot why he’d been so reluctant to accept Grantaire’s advances and indecorous flirtation. It wasn’t only because Grantaire was in a committed, long-term relationship with someone else, but because Jehan was aromantic and it wouldn't be the first time someone approached him looking for some fun and ended up confusing Jehan’s fondness for something else.

Jehan wasn’t completely sure if that was any better than being completely stereotyped and having people yelling at him because they didn’t think he was capable of navigating the entire spectrum of human emotion. That’d been interesting. He still didn’t get how someone could possibly think that was what being aromantic meant. Jeez.

But Grantaire was his friend first and that had ultimately convinced Jehan to breakdown the walls he’d built around himself and try something with the artist. He trusted him and Grantaire had shown time and time again he respected Jehan, as well as his identity, so why not? It’d been some time since he’d allowed himself the pleasure to be with someone else and Grantaire was, as a matter of fact, super smoking hot; he’d be an idiot if he said no to having that man on top of him.

And that’s exactly where Grantaire was at the moment, nipping at the lobe of Jehan’s ear as he grinded his hips slowly, barely pulling out of Jehan before he pushed forward again, and smiling every time the poet arched his back or whined asking for more. That was Jehan’s favorite type of sex and he both loved and hated Grantaire had discovered it because he always used it to reduce Jehan to the desperate mess he was at the moment.

“You look so hot with my cock inside you,” Grantaire said, so out of the blue that Jehan snortned instead of moaning like he’d intended to.

“You’re so crude,” he complained, although he secretly preferred it that way.

“That doesn’t make what I said any less true, honey.”

Jehan didn’t reject the pet name; it was something he’d grown accustomed to and also one of the few things Grantaire had requested during their negotiation, so he only hid his face in the crook of Grantaire’s neck, biting lightly at the skin there when he felt his climax approaching.

They worked so fine together, not only when they were having sex, but in general; sometimes it was hard for Jehan to believe that he was allowed such thing without the other person expecting anything from him he couldn’t give. Grantaire accepted him without reprimands or unfair demands; just Jehan, for who he was and what he could give. And it was perfect.

They stayed in bed for a long time after they finished, talking. Grantaire was telling him about some new show he’d watched but his sentence was interrupted by his phone ringing somewhere on the floor where he’d thrown his clothes earlier. He fished blindly for it and smile when he saw the name on the screen. “It’s Enjolras”, he announced, as if Jehan didn’t know already by the look on Grantaire’s face.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Grantaire greeted on the phone, using his free hand to brushed the strands of hair from Jehan’s sweating forehead. Jehan closed his eyes and let Grantaire's voice lul him until the verge of sleep.

“Yeah, I’m with Jehan,” he heard next to him. “No, Enjolras, you’re not interrupting anything. If you were, I wouldn’t even have picked up...”

Jehan zoned out almost immediately after that as a reflex, both to give them some privacy and to avoid hearing something that could upset him. He was pretty much used to Grantaire and Enjolras’ love language (especially from Grantaire’s part), but there were still days where he couldn’t stop himself from thinking he was too aro for their conversations and, thus, needed to retreat for a moment.

“I don’t think Jehan has a problem with that, but you should ask him.” Jehan opened his eyes at that and saw Grantaire smiling down at him. “Okay, you’re on speaker now,” he informed the blond, setting the phone between them on the bed.

“Jehan? Hi, this is Enjolras,” the other man said on the phone. He barely left enough time for Jehan to answer back before he was talking again. “Would you like to come for dinner with us? I’m not gonna cook, don’t worry, but there’s a new restaurant just around the corner that R and I have meant to try for ages and we thought it’d be nice if you joined us.”

“It’s just take out,” Grantaire clarified at Jehan’s doubtful face. “Nothing fancy.”

Jehan knew that, but that didn’t help him feel any less nervous.

He’d gone to Grantaire and Enjolras’ home many times before, but never when their other friends weren’t around. It was always a group reunion, or someone’s birthday; dinner at their place with only the three of them felt too… intimate. He knew he could trust Grantaire and he’d just heard Enjolras himself inviting him, but still, Jehan felt like he was intruding somewhere he shouldn’t have, something that worried him constantly but it was easier to ignore when he was in bed with Grantaire.

However, what scared Jehan the most was that a part of him was inexplicably excited about the invitation. Although Enjolras wasn’t an active member in the arrangement Jehan and Grantaire had, the poet was a little excited the blond was so considerate to include him in stuff that clearly only belonged to the couple. It made Jehan feel part of something and that was the scary bit: Did that meant Jehan had been lying all that time and he wasn’t really aromantic? Was it true that he only needed to find the one to fall in love?

Those were questions he asked himself whenever he was feeling down, he didn’t want to think about them when he was having such a good time with Grantaire. He wished he could just push them to the back of his head, but it wasn’t that easy. It never was that easy.

“Would you come?” Enjolras asked, interrupting Jehan’s train of thought.

The poet lifted his eyes to look at Grantaire, who smiled fondly before taking Jehan’s hand between his own. “O-okay,” Jehan stuttered. “If you’ll have me.”

“Wonderful. We usually dine at six, but come whenever you’re ready. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Enjolras,” Jehan said, accepting Grantaire’s caresses on his hand and refusing to look away from him.

“Thank you for accepting. See you tonight,” he said to Jehan, and “Grantaire, bring some bread on your way home” to the artist, who only rolled his eyes. “Good afternoon.”

Grantaire kissed Jehan’s forehead and stood up. “I gotta go. I’m sure he’ll need some help to get the place ready,” he announced, grabbing his clothes from the floor. “You know,” Grantaire said casually as he pulled his jeans up, “you should move in with us. That way you wouldn't be so lonely over here and I could see you every day. Besides, I’m sure Enjolras would appreciate having someone around that isn't an insufrible jerk for a change.”

He was facing away from Jehan and so missed the way he’d flinched at the comment. He wasn’t lonely. He was fine on his own, did Grantaire really think he was lonely? He wasn’t going to deny it’d be nice to have someone he could talk during the nights he couldn’t sleep or after finishing one of his books, but that didn’t mean he felt lonely.

What was all that about anyway? They’d never talked about living together, that was something couples did. They weren’t dating, Jehan thought he’d been pretty clear about that. Grantaire was with Enjolras and that should be enough… Why it wasn't?

Grantaire sat down next to him on the bed and rubbed Jehan’s frown with a gentle finger. “You don’t have to do it,” he promised, lowering his hand. “I understand why you wouldn’t, but… think about it? Please? I know it seems, like, too much, too soon, but. I don’t know, I’m really selfish and I wish I could see you more, that’s all.”

“You can see me anytime you want, R. You know that.” Jehan offered.

“I know, but promise me you’ll think about it. Just, think about all the good things that could come up from that. Enjolras said we can give you the spare room, you wouldn’t even have to share the bed with us unless you wanted to. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, actually. No sex or romance required; just my best friend living with me and my boyfriend, nothing else.”

That made Jehan look up. “Grantaire, that- Wait. Enjolras? You already run the idea by him, didn’t you?”

“Yup. He was pretty excited about it. He said he would’ve suggested it himself a year ago, but Combeferre told him to wait until we felt more comfortable around each other in this new arrangement.”

“Fuck… a year ago?”

Jehan remembered very clearly how this thing with Grantaire had started and always made him laugh to think it hadn’t been their idea, at least not explicitly.

He’d been friends with the artist for a week when the man, jokingly, expressed his interest in Jehan in a not-so-platonic way. It’d made Jehan roll his eyes fondly, but since Grantaire was head over heels in love with someone else, he didn’t worry too much, neither he felt the need to come out to him; it took him another six months to trust Grantaire enough to tell him he was aro.

It all went normally for a couple of years: Grantaire started dating Enjolras, Jehan got a job in a small, independent bookstore, and nothing else changed between them. But then Grantaire started acting weird, always talking about how good Jehan looked or how soft his hair seemed after he brushed it and asking if he’d let him touch it. The most surprising thing was that Jehan didn’t mind. He actually liked it.

Truth be told, Jehan love to flirt. He knew he was aro, but that didn't stop him from enjoying the thrill and playfulness of having someone directing naughty words at him. To be honest, he enjoyed being appreciated. He did not think he'd receive that from Grantaire, though, who was in a committed relationship with Enjolras, the guy he'd been madly in love with for years before he asked him on a date and then practically married him.

Still, that somehow didn't stop the artist from telling Jehan how hot he thought he was, even when Enjolras was around. Jehan always worried about what the blond would think of that, but he didn't seem to mind so Jehan flirted back. It was playful and harmless, just a funny game between two good friends. Until it wasn't.

Sexting wasn't Jehan's strongest suit (or maybe he only thought so because he’d never tried it before), but when Grantaire not so casually said he’d totally fucked Jehan if he had the chance, the poet just... went along with it. It turned out that having some experience in literature was really helpful when it came to completely disarm his friend using only his words.

Things got pretty intense pretty quickly until Grantaire abruptly stopped himself before he could describe, in detail, what exactly he would do to Jehan once he had him in bed. "I'm sure your boyfriend won't like this", Jehan wrote, feeling sick for betraying one of his dearest friends who did not deserved what they were doing.

“He doesn’t mind,” Grantaire wrote back. “But maybe we should save it for later. Keep those thoughts right there, baby. We’ll talk about them some other time, I promise.”

“He doesn’t mind,” Jehan mumbled and dropped his phone on the mattress. “Right…”

To Jehan’s immense surprise, Grantaire wasn’t lying.

“Are you attracted to Grantaire?” Enjolras asked one day after a party, when most of their friends were either sleeping in the living room or on their way to their respectives homes.

“... Sorry?”

“Are you attracted to Grantaire? I’ve seen the way you stare at him when you think no one’s looking.”

“I don’t stare.”

“You do, sometimes,” Enjolras affirmed with a smile. “I just wanted to be sure I was reading the signs correctly. So, are you attracted to Grantaire?”

“What are you doing, angel?” Grantaire asked, taking a seat next to Enjolras, who frowned at the pet name. “From afar it seemed you were flirting with Jehan and, let me remind you, I saw him first.”

Enjolras blushed. “Grantaire, I’m not… flirting. This is about you, actually. I'm trying to make you the happiest you could ever be.”

Grantaire’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “Oh, and what does Jehan have to do with this? Please, do tell.”

“I’ve observed you both and there's a particular glint in your eyes whenever you're with him,” Enjolras explained to Grantaire with the same confidence with which he pronounced his speeches. “And you did say you were polyamorous when we started dating, so... I want you to have everything you need to be happy.”

“What the-” Grantaire whispered, looking between Enjolras and Jehan with eyes wide open. “Are you suggesting that we… Uhm… we… He doesn’t want to, do you?” Grantaire said, directing the last question to Jehan.

Did Jehan want?

“Be in a… relationship with you both?” he asked in return, completely baffled by Enjolras' words.

“Oh, no. Just Grantaire,” the blonde corrected, flustered by the mistake. “He’s told me how much he likes you and I’m okay with it. We would still be dating, but I personally wouldn't feel right knowing I'm, in some way, interfering between what you two could have. Whatever the agreement you both get to is, of course. Just. It’s okay. Consider it an let me know what you both decide, okay?”

That’d been, hands down, the weirdest conversation Jehan had been part of in his entire life, but if there was something he knew for sure, it was that Enjolras wasn’t like anyone Jehan had ever crossed paths with. He didn’t do things halfway, so of course he’d just proposed his boyfriend fucked someone else that wasn’t him.

They both accepted the proposal, of course. And it’d been a wonderful year since then.

“I don’t know, Grantaire,” Jehan confessed, wrapping his arms around his legs. “Move in with you is…”

“Too couple-y?” Grantaire supplied. “Yeah, you’re right. But that’s still a yes to dinner tonight, right? Around six? The place looks disgustingly tasty and you can’t say no to tasty food.” He finished, managing to bring back Jehan’s smile; Grantaire wasn’t disappointed and that made Jehan feel immensely better. He wasn’t pushing; he knew living together had never crossed the poet’s mind.

“Yeah, that still means dinner at six,” he assured, pulling Grantaire down for a kiss.

“Awesome. Wear something comfy, you won’t fit inside those tight jeans after we’re done.”

Jehan watched from his place at the bed as Grantaire finished getting dressed. It was a routine they’d done many times before and, for a moment, he allowed himself to think about what it’d be like to live with Grantaire and Enjolras, and seeing that every morning.

He loved having his own space, but also knew he still could have that at their place. He knew he was safe with them, that Grantaire would never force him to change for him, and that Enjolras would accept him just as happily as he did the first time he approached the blond after a meeting asking to join their group.

_No sex or romance required; just my best friend living with me and my boyfriend…_

“Grantaire,” he called when the other man was tying up his shoelaces. Grantaire looked up, curious, and Jehan bit his lip. “I’ll think about it. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a oneshot but work was crazy this month and I couldn't finish it on time. This was just the first part, I hope you enjoyed it!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jehan is still fucking Grantaire. Kinda.  
> Grantaire is still devoutly in a committed relationship with Enjolras.  
> Enjolras still wants Jehan to move in with them and he may not be doing all this just for Grantaire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meeni and I met on February 14, six years ago, thanks to a Jetaire fic I wrote. Ze is largely the reason this pairing means so much to me and, to celebrate our anniversary, I decided to finally write the second chapter of this fic.
> 
> This is for you, Meeni. Thank you for all these years of friendship. I love you!

Grantaire had said to wear something comfortable and Jehan had had to fight himself to comply. He'd been friends with Grantaire for long enough to know he wouldn't mind if he showed up with the clothes he'd been wearing earlier that day —since he’d probably be doing the same—, but Jehan used his clothes not only to express himself, but also as a defense mechanism. He consciously picked his outfit based on wether he wanted to draw attention to himself or not, or if he felt like being more feminine that day. He exclusively wore baggy clothes at home, and skin tight shirts and jeans outside because he treated the streets like a neverending slam poetry stage.

So he picked his favorite crop top, a pair of skinny jeans, and threw on an oversized jumper Cosette had gifted him on his last birthday. It was a middle ground between what his anxiety told him to do and the calm he felt when he was with Grantaire. He was on his way out when he noticed Grantaire had forgotten his denim jacket on the couch and he grabbed it, pushing aside the familiar urge to put it on (a lost reminisce of the time when Grantaire was single and he let him raid his closet), and closed the door behind him.

Jehan was well aware that all his restraints were part of his, perhaps irrational, insistence on keeping some distance between him and the couple, but as much as he knew how unnecessary it was, he couldn’t help it. He cursed the years he allowed amatonormativity to make him adhere to some sort of relationship hierarchy with such fervor despite his better judgment and over a year of Grantaire constantly reminding him he didn't have to do that around them. It was seemingly impossible for him to shake off the idea that traditional romantic relationships were some kind of sacred place he was somehow making impure with his twisted ways, so he kept walking wondering if he should just go back and forget about the whole thing.

"It's just dinner, nothing else," he reminded himself under his breath. "Just dinner..."

Grantaire and Enjolras’ apartment wasn’t so far from Jehan’s place and the walk helped him relax some. However, as soon as the door opened, he started to feel anxious again. Both men were waiting for him at the threshold, smiling widely and as happy as you would expect from a couple that has been together for as long as they have. Jehan was expecting that, what he wasn’t expecting was for Grantaire to reach for him and kiss him softly on the lips while Enjolras watched, smile never faltering.

Although Jehan and Grantaire had been sleeping together for over a year, it was that moment right there when Jehan felt it _real_ for the very first time.

They never tried to keep it a secret from the rest of his friends (if anyone could understand, those were their friends, who were more than used to unconventional relationships), but Enjolras had requested they tried to kept it at a minimum when they were with the others to avoid having to voice more details than what he felt comfortable with. Jehan had immediately agreed, so, sometimes, it was inevitable to push Enjolras to the back of his mind when it was only him and Grantaire in his apartment. This was the first time Jehan had to fully acknowledge he was screwing someone else’s man and he could almost hear the shriek of disapproval of his highly devoted catholic mother.

"Hey," he said a little breathlessly, accepting the pat on the back with which Enjolras greeted him as he entered the living room. 

"Make yourself at home, we're gonna get the things from the kitchen," Enjolras said and disappeared through the door; Grantaire didn't move an inch, eyeing Jehan up as he leaned against the door, a playful smile visible on his lips.

"I feel like I should reprimand you for those jeans when I told you to wear something comfy, but, damn, they look so good on you," he said appreciatively. "They'd look even better on the flo-"

Jehan snorted, weirdly nervous, and shut the other man up with an accusatory finger. "Keep your hands to yourself, Grantaire. I'm here for the food exclusively." He made it sound like a joke, but he was being completely honest: he would not flirt, touch or make any move on Grantaire while Enjolras was there. No, sir. This was a friendly dinner and he was going to behave.

Grantaire lifted his hands in surrender and smirked as he approached Jehan. He reached for him once he was close enough and brought their lips together in a kiss, licking inside Jehan's mouth before finally letting him go. "Thank you for coming," he murmured against his neck. "We saved you a seat." He guided him to the dining room and gently sat him down on one of the chairs at their tiny table before announcing he'd go to help Enjolras.

Jehan took a deep breath. Well, he'd tried.

He sat at the table, giving himself a moment to admire the decoration in the dining room. The apartment wasn’t exactly big, but it had two perfectly adequate bedrooms and doors that leaded to every separate area: it seemed more than enough for a young couple, but he wondered if it wouldn’t be too crowded when- _if_ he decided to move in with them. His eyes roamed over a nice spot by the window where the sunlight hit just right; maybe… maybe it’d be nice to read there while Grantaire painted on the balcony and Enjolras worked in the living room. Maybe…

“Dinner’s ready,” Enjolras announced, carrying trays where the restaurant’s food had been arranged in a more presentable way. Grantaire followed him closely with a pile of plates and glasses in hand, that he then placed in front of each of them. With the table set, the couple occupied their respective seats and Enjolras began serving the food.

“It looks great,” Jehan commented, accepting the plate Enjolras was offering.

“One of these days we’re gonna renegotiate our relationship with a real dinner and not just take out,” Grantaire commented, blushing slightly. “I haven’t yet cooked for you, little one,“ he pointed at Jehan with his fork, ”that was part of the deal, don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

Jehan smirked, but didn’t comment further. They'd agreed many things, but most of them had remained on hold because they not always had time to see each other and when they did… well, they usually had only one thing in mind. It was funny to think how long it’d taken them to get there, even after they’d first negotiated their relationship.

Jehan didn’t take Grantaire to bed right away. Neither of them wanted it to feel like it was something they were _required_ to do now that they had permission, because they thought that’d put unnecessary pressure on something that was meant to make them feel better; after all, the agreement only meant that, if they suddenly wanted to sleep together, they could do it, not that they were forced to fuck a certain number of times a month to meet a quota. They wanted to keep everything as natural as possible, so they let things move at their own pace without pushing it and it wasn’t until Jehan had a terrible meltdown that Grantaire spent the night in his apartment, kissing and praising every inch of Jehan’s naked body as he pushed inside him with agonizingly slow motions.

It’d happened a month after Jehan quit his job at the bookstore to work in a fancy office writing promotional slogans for a pharmaceutical company. It wasn’t exactly what Jehan had dreamt of doing with his life, but his salary at the bookstore was no longer enough to pay for his rent and he had to find another way to support himself if he wanted to keep his apartment. It had been a hard decision to make because he’d never worked in an office, but he was convinced it was the best he could do; he wasn’t prepared for the amount of stress and frustration that came from working under pressure with humanly-impossible-to-meet deadlines and a boss that had absolutely no idea of how to treat another human being. By the fourth week in that corporate hell, Jehan was ready to rip his face off.

He stormed inside his apartment after 10 hours of work, throwing his things on the floor and heading for the bathroom in an angry stride. He took the scissors from the cabinet, knocking a few things in his haste, and pressed them at the top of his neck where his reddish hair began to form the braid that fell down his shoulder and reached down his chest. Tears of frustration filled his eyes but he refused to let them run freely, so he focused on his reflection in the mirror and cut his hair. The loose strands fell at his feet as he kept cutting and by the time he was almost completely done, Grantaire appeared out of nowhere, standing behind him and resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jehan, who hadn’t even noticed when he started to openly cry, stared at Grantaire through the mirror, cutting the last bit of hair and holding his braid in his hand, suddenly aware of what he’d done.

Grantaire turned him around and took the braid and scissors off his hands to put them in the sink. “Grantaire?” Jehan asked, completely baffled. “What, wh-”

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” he murmured wrapping his arms around Jehan. “I was gonna pick you up after work, remember? But you never showed up and weren’t answering your phone, so I thought of coming here. You left your door open, you doofus. Anyone could come in here. Hey, what’s going on?” he asked when Jehan began to sob in his arms, trembling with every breath. Grantaire broke the hug and cupped Jehan’s face to look into his eyes. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Jehan shook his head, but instead of answering, he launched forward and crashed his lips with Grantaire’s in a bruising kiss. Grantaire kissed back at first, but after a few seconds he moved away, making it hard for Jehan to keep kissing him.

“What’s wrong?” Jehan shook his head again and tried to resume the kissing, but Grantaire held him firmly in place so he couldn’t get any closer. “Jehan-”

“Please,” Jehan begged, wrapping his arms around Grantaire and burying his face in his neck. “Please, I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to think, I just… I don’t- I, please, R. Please…”

Grantaire moved backwards so he could see his face again. After a few seconds of agonizing staring, he finally nodded. “Okay. Okay,” he repeated, guiding Jehan to his room. “It’s fine,” he kept saying as he pushed him gently down on his bed. Grantaire laid next to him and rubbed small circles on Jehan’s scalp as the shorter man hugged him tightly. “What do you need, Jehan?”

“Turn off my brain, I’m tired of thinking, I- I need… I don’t know. I don’t know… Just stay with me, please?”

Jehan knew exactly what he wanted, but he feared Grantaire Didn’t want to do it. Sex when Jehan was in the middle of meltdown not only was completely rushed and unplanned, but it also would sound too much like taking advantage of him, even if Jehan was consenting to it. They should’ve talked about it first, they- “It’s okay, it’s okay…” Grantaire whispered in his ear, kissing the back of his neck after. “I’ll take care of you.”

Grantaire rearranged them so they were lying back to chest in the middle of the mattress. He wrapped a hand loosely around Jehan’s neck to pull his head back and get access to his pulse point, running his tongue over it and humming approvingly while his free hand wandered under Jehan’s shirt caressing the heated skin. “Is it any better?” he asked, forcing Jehan’s head backwards and lapping his earlobe.

“More. Please, I need more-” Jehan replied, his voice slightly strained by the effort of keeping his head in position. 

“Okay...” Grantaire bent his head and whispered in his ear. “‘We aligned mouths. We entwined. All act was clutch, all fact contact, the attack and the interlock of tongues, the charms of arms…’” He ran his hands down Jehan’s chest until he reached his waist and opened his jeans slowly, his strong fingers leaving a small caress on the exposed skin. “‘I shook at the touch of his fresh flesh, I rocked at the shock of his co-.’”

“Oh, God. No Auden.”

Grantaire laughed and moved to straddle Jehan, caressing his hips as he pulled at the rough fabric. He got rid of Jehan’s jeans and underwear in a swift move and then kneeled between Jehan’s legs, admiring, and a faint smile formed in his lips. “'I stroked the lobes of his ears, the back of his head and the broad shoulders’” he said again, lowering himself slowly over Jehan to bite his neck. “'I took bold hold of the compact globes of his bottom. We tottered.’” With a final kiss to Jehan’s lips, he retreated backwards until he was eyes level with Jehan’s dick. “'He fell on the bed,’” he said against the skin of his inner thigh. “'Lips parted, eyes closed, he lay there, ripe for the act.’” And with that, he wrapped his lips around the head of Jehan’s cock.

The next day, Lamarque, Enjolras’ boss and whom Jehan had only met once at Enjolras’ promotion party, had called him to offer him a job translating some of his essays, as well as proofreading some of his other papers. It was a job that required all his attention, even if he worked from home, so Lamarque had insisted on him quitting his office job with the promise that he’d pay more than his current salary. Jehan was sure it’d been Grantaire’s and Enjolras’ doing, and he still thought about that with a fond smile, tangling his fingers in a lock of his hair. He’d let it grow back again from that first night with Grantaire and it’d became a constant reminder of how much his life had changed in the last year since their arrangement had started.

“Are you okay?” Grantaire whispered to his right, leaning a little towards him and matching Jehan’s frown. “You went awfully quiet, do you need, uh, anything?”

Jehan turned to look at him and his frown deepened. “It’s nothing.”

“Maybe you need to eat some more. Here,” Grantaire insisted, serving more baked asparagus on Jehan’s plate. “I know I’m starving, I’ll have more of this, too.”

“Sorry, Jehan,” Enjolras apologized, smiling fondly, “He eats when he’s nervous, but you already knew that.”

Jehan wondered what could possible make Grantaire nervous, but instead of voicing his concern, he smiled down at his plate, poking the asparagus with his fork and deciding he could let it pass. “It’s okay,” he assured; everything looked delicious and he, for the very first time in years, allowed himself to just enjoy the moment.

As Grantaire began to rant about the latest episode of a show he was watching between bites of Khorovats, Jehan imagined what it’d be like to have dinner with them every day. He pictured himself setting the table for three before they get home from work or arguing over what movie to watch on a saturday night. He wondered what it’d be like to walk to the Musain holding the hand of one of them or sharing a bed with them both, if he felt like it.

It was a nice thought, but he’d never considered any of that before and even now, with both Enjolras and Grantaire making him feel as part of their little world with something as simple as a shared dinner, he knew he was in unknown territory, although not a completely unpleasant one; did that mean he wanted all those things now? Maybe he _did_ feel lonely after all. Or it could be he… could it be possible he’d fallen in love with Grantaire?

There was nothing weird about that, he could be arospec after all, but somehow that possibility didn’t feel _right_ either. It wasn’t just the idea that he didn’t know himself as well as he thought he did, but the fact that thinking about the men sitting next to him in a romantic way was completely out of limits for him. He spent most of the dinner trying to decipher his own feelings and so lost in his head that Grantaire startled him when he squeezed his knee.

“Sorry,” he laughed apologetically and then added: “A penny for your thoughts?” 

"You said 'renegotiate our relationship'...", Jehan remembered turning to look at Grantaire, who choked on his coffee. 

"Oh, yeah. Enjolras wants to talk to you about our arrangement? He, uh. Well, he..."

"I'd like to renegotiate a few aspects of the previous agreement, if you don't mind,” Enjolras chimed in, setting his own mug down and lacing his fingers over the table in a way that clearly meant _business_. “I just want to put the options out there, it's not... none of them are a dealbreaker or anything," he rushed to add when Jehan’s face didn’t soften.

“Okay.” It was over already, wasn’t it? They’d noticed Jehan was getting too comfortable to be just a platonic thing. Because what else could it be? They knew more about that kind of stuff than he did. “So, what is it?”

“I want to work on getting you more involved in… our partnership,” Enjolras began, struggling with the words. “As you know, Grantaire and I have already discussed the possibility of you moving in with us on the off chance that you accept to be a more active member of our —family? I believe it’s the right word, yeah— that you accept to be a more active member of our family. Would you like that?”

Jehan openly gaped at him. “What?”

“Shit, I knew this was a bad idea,” Grantaire sentenced, causing Enjolras to frown. “Jehan, we don’t- It’s okay to say no, okay? You heard Enjolras, this won’t change anything between us. I mean, it will, but only if you accept, which you’re not obligated to.”

“No, wait,” Jehan interrupted, lifting a hand to stop Grantaire’s rant. “I mean, what? You want me to… what?”

“I understand this is overwhelming and do not intend to overstep your boundaries. I know how you feel about romance, and Grantaire warned me about how my wishes could be misunderstood, but this isn’t about that.”

“It’s not?” Jehan asked, doubtful, but not because he didn’t trust Enjolras, but because that option hadn’t even crossed his mind. He knew for certain —and the realization hit him like a moving train— that both Grantaire and Enjolras would never do anything to hurt him.

“No.” Enjolras glanced at his right to look into Grantaire’s eyes for a second before going back to Jehan. Grantaire’s face, which was usually very expressive, was impassive and Jehan wanted to know if, like him, he was trying to guess where Enjolras was going with all this. “No, that’s not- I won’t- I don’t wanna date you,” he finally said, sighing in relief. “This new arrangement, this trying to get you more involve doesn’t mean I want to be… with you. At least not like Grantaire is with you. Or any other form that implies we’re… Uhm…”

“Together,” Jehan filled in, trying to hide his smile. “Like a couple.”

“Exactly. Sorry, it’s any of this offensive? I don’t. I don’t know if…”

“You are so cute,” Grantaire murmured, kissing Enjolras’ temple and rubbing the back of his neck.

Jehan had to agree.

He’d met Enjolras on his first year working in the bookstore during Pride, after Grantaire had dragged him there. They’d gone to the march they were organizing with other LGBTQ groups and even though it wasn’t exactly what Jehan was looking for, he’d decided to stay after hearing Enjolras talk.He was promising and passionate but, more importantly, he _cared_. He always tried to listened to what other people had to say and shut up when it was necessary, even when it was painfully obvious he had a hard time doing it. Combeferre had said once that Enjolras had actually worked on his tolerance after meeting Grantaire and constantly checked himself to make sure he wasn’t talking over his peers. It’d been hard for him at the beginning, but he’d never faltered once he made up his mind.

That was what Jehan appreciated more about Enjolras, because then it meant him caring about Jehan’s wellbeing was a conscious decision and not just something he did to get off the hook. Jehan liked Enjolras. He was indeed cute.

“You’re not being offensive,” he assured the blond. “It’s actually kinda reassuring you don’t want to date me,” he confessed with a shy smile.

“Noted,” Enjolras replied with a smile of his own. “I still want to be your friend, though,” he added. “I want to be a better friend for you and I’d like very much if you decided to move in with us. As a friend. A friend that shares his life with us.”

Jehan bit his lip, turning to look at Grantaire. “What do you think?”

Grantaire squeezed Jehan’s knee again, keeping his other hand on the back of Enjolras’ neck. “I think it’d be pretty awesome.”

Jehan took a deep breath. "I'm still aro," he said after a long pause, like it was the first time he declare it. Neither Enjolras or Grantaire replied, but he saw them nodding without a trace of doubt. "I feel alienated sometimes because of it and... it's hard, but I don't want this to be an alternative to that. I don't want you to think you're... my last resource. That's either alone or to be normative. I want it to be... something we all want, something we all chose... but, at the end, I'm still me, okay?"

"Absolutely," Grantaire assured.  
  
"Okay. Then, sure. Why not?"

"It's that a yes?" Enjolras questioned. "To move in here with us?"

Jehan smiled, nodding. Before they could even react though, he added: "But," he said. "Can I have my own room?"

"It's already yours, silly. It's always been," Grantaire declared, kissing Jehan softly on the lips.

"Well, then I think... we could give it a go."

After all, he was sure he wouldn't regret it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, is Enjolras aspec? I think I just headcanoned my own fic...
> 
> So! the lines Grantaire recites in Jehan’s memory are from The Platonic Blow (A Day For A Lay) by W.H. Auden, which is, literally, a poem about a blowjob.
> 
> I don't know if Meeni remembers this, but the poem in the middle of the, uhm, soft smut was a little throw back to the fic that brought us together. Which you shouldn't read because it sucks. You should totally read Auden's poem though. It's quite the experience.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!


End file.
